


Second Chance

by Anonymous_Lobster



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Coming Out, Excessive use of the word fuck, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Gay Richie Tozier, Henry Bowers is Not That Bad, How Do I Tag, M/M, Male Homosexuality, My First Work in This Fandom, Oscar "Butch" Bowers's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Redemption, Self-Acceptance, The Turtle CAN Help Us (IT), idk my mom said it was good so im posting it, in its own convoluted way, pennywise is a bitch, references that dont make sense because its the 80s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Lobster/pseuds/Anonymous_Lobster
Summary: Second ChancesIn which Henry redeems himself, Richie accepts himself, and Stan saves himself.(Aka the fix-it fic that no one asked for, but I’m sick of Henry being treated as ‘just a bully’ when his character is so much more than that.)
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I just wanted a Henry Bowers redemption fic so if that isnt your cup of tea Id recommend not reading  
> Hope yall enjoy  
> (Also this takes place when the Losers are at Neibolt house before they fight)

Second Chances

Henry was merely taking a walk. That’s all he was doing, just taking a walk. A nice tread throughout town. Even though it was smoking hot outside, and it felt like his skin was fizzing, and sweat was traveling down the back of his neck to pile uncomfortably on his back. Why was he taking a walk, you might ask? Henry didn’t know, he didn’t know one bit. He didn’t even like taking walks. All he knew is that it just felt right, to take a walk on this steaming summer day.

The turtle cannot save us

He thought quickly. It felt like he hadn’t even thought it, like it was fired at him from someone else.

Well…that was weird. Henry didn’t even like turtles, why was he thinking about turtles?

Why was he expecting a turtle to save him?

Huh, weird.

But, to be fair, it was probably the least weird thing he’s seen all summer.

He continued to stroll through Neibolt street, kicking pebbles along the deserted pathway. One pebble rolled down the gutter and made a nice plunk when it hit the sewer water below. He was feeling better than he had in months, his head was less cloudy and his thoughts were less plagued by the Man in the Moon. For the first time this summer, Henry felt like his thoughts were his own, that he could think for himself, that he could make decisions for himself. 

In fact, he even felt some guilt for what he had done earlier in the month.

But he would never, ever, ever admit that. 

Eventually, he ended up in front of that house. That terrible, abandoned house.

29 Neibolt Street.

Why did he stop?

He realized, very abruptly, that the moon was out in the middle of the day.

Dammit.

The turtle cannot save us

And then, he heard screaming. Very loud, very scared screaming.

Was it in his head? In the house? In the moon?

Henry couldn’t tell, he didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t know.

Goddamn, this summer was fucking maddening. 

He was still standing in front of the house, still staring at the broken entrance. 

Save them, son

He gazed at the gate to the house, the screaming now a continuous buzzing in his ears. There were bikes laying on the street, all piled in a hassle. 

7

Losers 

Those were the Losers, inside the house, probably the cause of all that screaming.

Well, he’s bullied them pretty much all their lives. Ever since they were kids, they tussled with each other, the Losers running away more often then not. He hated them, even the mere thought of them made his blood boil at times. 

But he didn’t want them dead. 

He just wanted to rough them up a little, maybe bloody some noses…but they had done their fair share of roughing him up in return.

The apocalyptic rockfight

He didn’t know what he’d do if they died, if they actually stopped living. It made him feel…almost empty inside.

His old man would be so very happy, that that [nword], that fatty, that stutterer, that slut, that trashmouth, that germophobe, and that Jew had all terribly passed. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to grieve for a day, maybe share some kind words to their parents when they passed in the street. Henry knew it was all lies.

Henry knew

Henry knew…

He should leave them, let them die.

Maybe it would make the Man in the Moon get of his case

So, what was he doing, climbing up the stairs to the entrance? What was he doing, leaving dirty footprints on the floor as he crept inside?

He looked around, trying to find the Losers. The screaming had tapered out, and for a brief moment, he felt fear.

What was he doing?

He should just let them die…

Hasn’t he been trying to kill them the entire summer?

Hasn’t he…?

Was it him? Was it actually him trying to kill them?

He spotted a sharp spike of metal, laying abandoned on the rotted wood of the house. It was decently sharp, probably originally used as decoration. Now, it just seemed like a weapon.

Henry picked it up.

Someone, probably Beverly (probably Richie), shrieked. It was a piercing, horrific scream. Henry followed that sound to where he assumed the group would be. He walked into the room, and saw the Losers huddled together against a wall. From the angle that they were arranged, they couldn’t see him. And, with the way that they were screaming, they probably couldn’t hear him, either. The Clown was walking towards them, laughing madly.

It sounded like the Man in the Moon.

What was he doing?

Why was he saving them?

Just leave. They don’t know you’re here. Just leave.

He took a breath, attempting to prepare himself for what he was about to do. Then he sprinted towards the clown and stabbed the spike through the side of Its head. Straight through, ear to ear. It shrieked, mostly out of surprise rather than pain, and tried to scratch him in the face. He barely dodged it and ended up stumbling to the ground. It was towering over him, sneering, black blood(?) trailing down the two holes that Henry made. He had a brief thought, a brief moment of confidence, of courage.

I’m not fucking scared of you.

Henry kicked It in the balls. It screamed, once again out of shock, and Henry took his chance to punch It in the face. It hissed and sensed that Henry wasn’t done with the beating, would never be done. Then, defeated, It melted into a black puddle and oozed into the floorboards.

This isn’t over.

Henry looked, panting, to the Losers. They seemed to be in a worse state than he was. Eddie’s arm was twisted in a very wrong angle, Ben had two deep gashes in his stomach, Stan was seemingly catatonic, and Richie was clutching Eddie for dear life. 

They stared at him.

He stared back. 

No one was saying anything. They just stared at each other, daring one another to speak. The silence could’ve lasted for hours, if no one was brave enough to say anything. 

Eventually, someone did. 

“Ahoy, there.”

Richie spoke in a horrible sailor’s accent, and while there were tears streaming down his cheeks, he was smiling. 

Eddie snapped his head to look at him, eyes screaming the question ‘are you insane? Why are you talking to Henry of all people?’

“B-Bowers?” 

“You…saved us?” Bev spoke, looking very confused and, perhaps more worryingly, concerned. 

“If you fucking tell anyone that I saved your lives, I will slit your fucking throat myself.” Henry threatened, then turned around, and walked out of the house. He tried to ignore the fact that his legs were shaking, his hands were shaking, and he wanted nothing more than to go and ask if they were fucking okay.

It’s so unlike you

It felt like the moon was beating down on him.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Henry came home from his first day of first grade. He burst through his front door, eager to tell his dad about his new friend. 

Little boy

When will you learn?

His dad was sitting at their kitchen table, drinking a beer, and paying the bills.

Henry should’ve known that his dad was in a very, very bad mood.

“Dad! I met a boy today! He was really nice; I think we could be friends. His name was Bill Denbrough- “

Smack 

’Bill Denbrough, that stuttering freak? Don’t you fucking dare talk to him, henry” 

Oscar Bowers hit his son again, on the opposite cheek, so that his entire face was burning red.

In truth, the Denbroughs had hit Oscar’s car a few years ago, and even though they offered to pay the cost of the damage, he still had a grudge. 

“If you talk to him again, it’s the belt.”

The next day, Henry pushed Bill into a pile of mud, and ignored the feeling of guilt in his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yall liked it  
> Stay tuned for chapter 2  
> Comments give me validation and motivation so please comment lol!


End file.
